You’re a smart man, Richard.
*
“I want a Magnolia soulangeana.”
When Jessica used that tone of voice it meant that she wouldn’t rest until she’d got her hands on one, and I wouldn’t get any rest until I’d come up with it.
“And what’s that when it’s at home?” I asked, with only mild interest.
“A tree. It’s lovely. It’s got big pink flowers in Spring, before almost anything else is out. It’ll do well here but it’s slow-growing and nobody’s got a big one. I know, because I asked Nadia when they were all here, and she’s well up on what people have got, and she says she’s only ever seen little ones.”
I could have asked Jessica whether it was her love of trees that drove her desire for a Magnolia soulangeana or the fact that no one else had one worth looking at, but I wouldn’t have got a straight answer and it would only have prompted another row, so I didn’t bother.
“Have you got a supplier?”
“Yes. M.K. Roberts has a nice variety in stock. I can have a two-year-old sapling inside a week.”
“How old do you want it to be?”
“About 40.”
“Okay,” I said wearily.
*
Now you can see why I’d invested in the Transporter, or to give it its full name: de Broglie Vectored Field Transporter. It was expensive, but then I’d got myself a fully featured one, and I reckon it was worth it. It had certainly kept Jessica happy.
Take an example – an actual example, as it happens. Jess announces that she wants a one-hundred-and-fifty-year-old cedar in the Biosphere. I get her to buy a sapling and I plant it in the usual way, siting it according to its final size. Then I set up the field antennae – four of them, arranged roughly in a square around it. It doesn’t have to be an exact square but every part of the tree has to be inside it. That’s important. Then I go to my study and set the coordinates to about a hundred and fifty years ago. The mode is straight Time Transfer; if you’re not familiar with this sort of thing, it means the sapling is transported back in time in exactly its present form. Then I set the coordinates to the negative of what they were, which exactly reverses the time vector, and I change the mode to Time Trajectory. This mode is different; its effect is like winding on time about five thousand million times faster than normal, so in about a second I have a one-hundred-and-fifty-year-old cedar tree where there was previously a sapling.
It’s not hard, but there are certain rules about these time transactions, and they’re built into the software to stop you from setting up forbidden manoeuvres. The main rule is that you can’t add or subtract anything in a previous time zone. So anything you put there you’ve got to take away at the end of the transaction, and vice versa. Well that’s pretty obvious, because otherwise you’d be changing history. This didn’t stop some bright sparks from transferring themselves to an earlier zone with the idea of helping themselves to treasure and bringing it back. It didn’t work, of course, and a number of people disappeared mysteriously. The manufacturers started getting nervous and they now include a get-out clause, and you have to agree to it before you can run the software. It goes something like this: “As manufacturers of this equipment, we strongly advise you against attempting to transfer yourself or another individual with the Vectored Field Transporter. The Company will accept no responsibility for the consequences if this warning is disregarded.” Actually I can’t see why it shouldn’t work in principle, but I’ve got more sense than to try.
Jessica had the little magnolia delivered in five days. We argued a bit about where to put it, as she wanted it near the end of the border, and I wasn’t convinced there’d be enough height between the mature tree and the glazing of the Biosphere. Finally we agreed on a site and I planted it. Then I got the four field antennae, sank the spikes in so they were arranged in a square, and went back upstairs to my study to run the program. I could hear Jessica moving around somewhere downstairs. She never took any interest in this part; the only thing that mattered to her was the final result.
I did the time transfer, then the time trajectory; no problem. Then I went downstairs to show Jessica the finished result but she didn’t seem to be around, so I opened the back door to the garden to take a peek myself. I quickly shut the door and leaned back shakily. The tree was there all right, just where it was supposed to be, a lovely specimen, spreading its branches gracefully to a height of about twenty-five feet. But something else was there too. It was a very ugly insect. And it was the size of a small house.
My mind was racing. Where in God’s name had it come from? How the hell was I going to get rid of it? I went back up to my study and looked out of the window. It hadn’t moved; it was still on the ground at the foot of the tree. Standing there, glinting like that, it would have passed for a giant bronze sculpture, except that there were little waving movements from its feelers, which arched out and forwards like part of an H-aerial. It seemed to be some kind of weevil. I was lost in thought, trying to work through the problem, so I nearly leaped out of my skin at the sound of a piercing shriek followed by the back door banging shut. I suppose I should have warned her.
I sat down at my console and waited. It didn’t take long. The door burst open and there she was, chest heaving, eyes staring, face white as a sheet. Her mouth was moving but no sound was coming from it. It was such a novel sensation to see Jessica actually lost for words that I savoured the moment. Then she found her voice.
“What…is…that?”
“I think it’s some kind of weevil.”
“I don’t mean that, you idiot, I mean how did it get there?”
I gritted my teeth. It always annoys me when she calls me an idiot, because without my little bit of ingenuity she wouldn’t have her bloody garden. I hung on to my self-control – after all, she’d had a shock. “Well, I can only assume it took the time trip with the sapling. It must have been on it when I sent it back.”
“But the Biosphere’s pest-free!”
“Yes, I know that, but it must have come in on the sapling. They’re supposed to spray them before delivery but somebody must have slipped up.”
“Well, didn’t you see it?”
“For Chrissake, it was probably only a quarter of an inch long back then.”
“It’s a hell of a sight bigger than that now!”
“Well, it’s forty years old, isn’t it? I didn’t think insects could live that long, but this is a kind of special situation. It isn’t like growing up in a garden full of predators…”
“I’m not interested. Get it out of here!”
If there’s one thing that annoys me almost as much as being called an idiot, it’s being told to do things that I’m already trying to do. Something inside me snapped.
“Do you know, I was just thinking about that myself? I was thinking how the only way out of the Biosphere is through the house. That thing’s a bit large to go through the back door, but if we open the French windows onto the patio we should be able to push it through there. Of course it might squit on the lounge carpet on the way out. I don’t know what weevil squit is like, but I’m prepared to bet it’s not fragrant. Still, you can always clean up after it, can’t you, love? Shall I put a collar and lead on it, or would you like to saddle it up and ride it out?”
The colour rose to Jessica’s face. “Why don’t you cut the sarcasm and do something useful!” she bellowed. “Like zap it in the head with a megalaser.”
Zap it in the head. Life is so simple for some people.
“Oh, very good suggestion. And what if it moves its head and I miss? The very best that could happen is I blow a hole in the Biosphere and your precious microenvironment equalizes with the outside world. That’s the best scenario. A more likely scenario is that the beam gets reflected around inside the Biosphere and destroys everything in the garden, us included.”
Her mouth set in a straight line, her eyes still blazing. “Then spray it with chemicals!”
“Okay. Assuming
I could get enough insecticide to kill something that big, which I very much doubt, and assuming we didn’t gas ourselves in the process, how am I going to get rid of the carcass? You can’t just flush it down the toilet, you know.”
Jessica was beside herself. I knew she was trying desperately to think of a suitable put-down; that was far more important to her than solving the problem. She bit her lip and turned to the window. Then she froze and uttered a small, protesting cry. I stood up to see what had caught her attention. The weevil had moved. It had turned slightly and extended two palps to grasp the stem of a rather handsome rhododendron, which it had brought to a set of complicated mouth parts. Even inside the house we could hear the scrunching noise as it worked its way down the stem. I was amazed at how fast the stem disappeared. Then it selected another stem one did a repeat performance. Jessica’s lower lip quivered.
“It’s destroying my lovely garden,” she whimpered.
I felt a bit sorry for her.
“Look, Jess. Why don’t you go out and leave me to it? Take the hover. Go round to a friend. Go shopping or something.”
She looked at me like a mournful spaniel, still hesitating.
“Go on, Jess,” I said a bit more firmly. “I can’t think straight with you around. Go on, now, there’s a good girl.”
She made up her mind, set her lips grimly, gave me a brief nod and made for the door. I waited until I heard the hover whine off.
I already had an idea about what I was going to do, but it was dangerous and I didn’t want Jessica around. I went to the back door and stepped gingerly into the garden. The weevil had finished eating rhododendrons for the moment and was now facing the house, cleaning its feelers by dragging them through its mouth parts. It hadn’t moved far, so it was reasonably well placed in relation to two of the field antennae, but it was outside the line of the other two, and if this was going to work every part of it had to be inside the field. Moving as smoothly and slowly as I could, I worked around to the side antenna, watching the insect carefully all the time. As I moved, the light reflected in turn from the multiple facets of one big black compound eye and I had the distinct feeling that it was watching me. I reached the field antenna. Still doing my best to avoid any sudden movement, I tried to pull it out of the ground. The spike was firmly embedded. I pulled harder and felt it give a bit. I worked the spike back and forth gently, pulled again and with a sudden lurch it came free. I looked up anxiously at the monstrous insect. Its feelers were waving a bit but it hadn’t moved. Moving very carefully I drew the field antenna back a few yards and pushed it in again. Now I needed to do the same with the front one, which was right under the weevil’s snout. I licked my dry lips and moved very slowly around to it. The sweat was trickling down the back of my neck and my heart was thumping. I reached the field antenna, took hold of it, and suddenly the weevil moved one leg. I froze. It was still again. I was barely breathing. I pulled ever so gently and felt it give. I was in luck: this antenna was in softer ground and it came out smoothly. I breathed out. Very slowly I drew the antenna away and sank it again. The longer rectangle made by the four field antennae now included the whole of the insect. I retreated smoothly backwards and into the house, shut the door and went straight up to my study.
At the console I wiped the sweat out of my eyes with my sleeve and brought up the control panel for the de Broglie on the monitor. Then I punched in coordinates for one hundred years into the future. My reasoning went like this. If this insect had died in the normal course of things it would have decayed down eventually to its constituent molecules. Of course those molecules might have been taken up by other plants or animals or fungi in the process, but by whatever route they would still have gone on into the future. So by transporting this thing into the future I wasn’t actually adding anything to the time zone that wouldn’t otherwise have been there. That’s the way it seemed to me, but I couldn’t be sure it would work. I switched the mode from Time Trajectory back to Time Transfer. Time Trajectory would make the weevil a hundred and forty years old. It would almost certainly be even bigger, and it was quite big enough as it was. I didn’t relish the thought of being responsible for a mile-long insect rampaging through some city of the future. No, Time Transfer was definitely the right mode. I took a deep breath and clicked the button marked ‘OK’ to enter the settings.
The dialogue box for the next step came up on the monitor. It had accepted it, just like that. I breathed out. I wanted to watch what happened so I opted for a countdown of sixty seconds, checked my watch and initiated the countdown. Then I went to the window. My blood ran cold. It had moved. Not far, but far enough. Its head was just outside the line of the front two field antennae. For a moment I was poised in a state of total indecision. I could probably stop the countdown, but I couldn’t remember how, and by the time I’d figured it out it would be too late. The only thing for it was to move the front antenna again. I raced downstairs, took hold of the door handle, gritted my teeth, and went out into the garden. The weevil swivelled its head this time, following my progress as I moved towards the front antenna. Its feelers waved. It was definitely more alert, more active. I glanced at my watch: only twenty seconds to go. I pulled the field antenna gently out of the ground and was about to draw it back when a pair of scaly, hairy palps clamped onto either side of it. I pulled harder. Jesus, it was strong.
“Let go, you stupid bastard,” I hissed. We engaged in a brief tug of war, moving first this way and then that. But the palps couldn’t get a proper grip on the smooth metallic surface of the antenna and they started to slide. Seeing this, I put all my weight into it, staggered free, almost lost my balance, but turned and planted the antenna. For one brief moment I felt elated. Then the palps came back, and this time they were on me. I tried to prise them off, but they were very rough and it was taking the skin off my hands. Desperately I turned my wrist to look at my watch. One second to go. Too late.
There was a blinding flash and a dreadful impact.
*
All I could see to start with was a red mist. Then it became a grey mist.
I can’t see. I’m blind.
I thought about it.
Of course you can’t see, you clown, you’re dead. What do you expect to see?
The mist thinned a bit. Two eyes appeared, brown eyes with wide pupils, framed by long lashes, interested, concerned. Above them two arched eyebrows materialized, then a nose and a mouth. The mouth moved, the sounds were coming out of a distant tunnel, then suddenly they were sharp and in my ears.
“Are you all right? Don’t try to move. Take it easy.”
The mists had cleared. The girl had long shiny dark hair. It was an exotically beautiful face, with high cheekbones and a complexion like pale honey. She was wearing a garment made of some sort of shining blue material. The way it hugged her figure made me want to see more. She gave me a dazzling smile.
This confirms it: I’m dead and I’ve gone to Heaven. How nice.
Except that I was becoming aware of my body now, and that included a throbbing pain in my head.
If I can feel pain, can it still be Heaven?
I tried to move, and very nearly succeeded.
“Don’t try to get up yet. You’ve had a nasty knock on the head.”
With a huge effort of concentration I managed to coordinate my mouth and tongue into saying, “Who are you?”
“Well, since you’re the one who just dropped in from nowhere perhaps you should tell me who you are.”
I sighed. “It’s hard to explain. I’ve been transported forward in time. By a whole century. I had to…” I jerked my head up with a start. “The weevil! My God, where’s the weevil?”
“Oh, if you mean that giant insect I vaporized it.”
“You…vaporized it?”
“Yes. I don’t much care for insects, especially ones as big as that.” She put her fingertips to her mouth. “Oh, I’m awfully sorry. Was it a pet or something?”
A smile of infinite relief spread s
lowly across my face. “No, no. Nothing like that. You vaporized it. Oh, good. That’s just wonderful.” I sank back.
“You came in a de Broglie field didn’t you?”
“Yes, how do you know? Are you familiar with them?”
“Only from history of technology classes. They were banned years ago. Far too dangerous. Probably the only reason you’re still alive is because you got ballasted by that insect.”
“I have to say it doesn’t feel like I came through entirely unscathed.”
She laughed and I marvelled at white, even teeth. “Well that’s because you landed on my cargo port,” she said. “You should look where you’re going.”
With her help I struggled to a sitting position and looked around. The surroundings were faintly familiar. There was no Biosphere but I recognized some of the trees, in particular a massive gnarled old cedar with branches down to the ground. I felt a pang of remorse.
This is Jessica’s garden. Wouldn’t she have loved to see it now! Except she can’t, because she’s been dead for years. I wonder how she managed without me. Probably pretty well. She had lots of friends. She probably started up with someone else. If I’m realistic about it, our relationship was on its last legs anyway. Arguments almost every day. I think we only stayed together out of pure habit.
I looked behind me, but the house was like nothing I’d ever seen before. I looked back at the garden, my eyes roving around the sky above the trees. “What happened to the Biosphere?” I asked.
“What, those big black sphere things? I’ve seen pictures of those. They went out of fashion ages ago.”
“But what about global warming, pollution…?”
“Oh that stuff. Yes, it was an issue for a while, wasn’t it? I can’t imagine how crowded the planet must have been back then. I don’t suppose anyone saw the population crashes coming. And of course there was the industrialization of space. And global cooling.”
“And the paparazzi…?”
“I don’t know that word. Is it English? It doesn’t sound like English.”
The Tomb and Other Stories Page 11